The Twenty-Seventh Year
by OPYKJ
Summary: There has been no Pathfinder project, no short-cut back to the Alpha Quadrant. In the twenty-seventh year of their journey, Voyager and her crew have endured and changed. AU. Bittersweet. Established J/C. Mention of past J/7.
1. Chapter 1 - Anniversary

_Thank you to my two betas for reviewing this work. All errors are mine.  
_ _Thanks to The Cheshire Cheese for allowing me to use a title very close to one of her works._

 **Chapter 1 - Anniversary**

She left the bathroom still brushing her greying hair, a towel firmly attached underneath the arms. "I'll get dressed and then go."

Chakotay slid a finger in his book to keep the page and looked at her, a resigned look on his face. Dinner had been a quiet affair, the evening hours spent making small talk about the various projects they were working on. She knew that he had been worried about her state of mind over the past few months. But she had to do this alone, as she had done every year at that very same date.

"I'll be here when you come back," he said, giving her a light kiss before sitting down on the lounge, a cup of tea in one hand and the hardback volume in the other.

Kathryn turned away, a half-smile on her face. Fifteen years to the day, she had whispered those very same words as an away team was leaving for a routine stellar survey. Of the four crew members who had boarded the shuttle, one had died in the explosion and the others had been found barely alive in the wreck that limped back to Voyager hours later.

When she left the quarters she shared with Chakotay, the gamma shift was hurrying down the corridor. She stopped to exchange a few words with Commander Paris who had just finished her stint on the bridge and was on her way to the mess hall for a quick bite. _The three pips still look out of place_. _I really need to get used to them being on Miral's collar._

Lost in thoughts, she walked past the door of the newly expanded Science Department. There was nobody there at this late hour. Chakotay had made it a condition of their stepping down from their command roles that they both follow the alpha shift hours from then on. Three months later, the self-appointed Head of Science had only missed dinner in their quarters a few times and rarely brought work back with her. Not a bad record considering her past habits.  
She could not imagine life without him. He had been the one who had gotten her off the slippery slide to darkness, then had filled the emptiness left behind.

Her mind went back to the days after the accident. The Captain had taken over. She had headed the investigation into the shuttle explosion, visited the survivors in sickbay, sat with their friends and families, headed the design team in charge of developing new safety protocols to avoid another happenstance, tested the upgraded shuttle herself. Strong, compassionate, decisive.  
Meanwhile, Kathryn had disappeared, hiding in the same bottomless hole that she had dug for herself after her father had died. Lost. Alone.

She got into the turbolift, then down empty passageways, moving deeper into the bowels of the ship. She finally stopped in front of the Cargo Bay Two door which swished open at her voice command. The vast space she was now entering was cold and forbidding. Her wrist light showed tall columns of grey numbered containers stacked securely on top of one another, the far rows disappearing in the gloom.  
Not bothering to call for illumination, she walked down the third aisle, her boots making a clipping sound with no echo. She did not slow down until she reached the end of the stacks, a good twenty metres before the far wall.

A small antiquated console jutted from the floor in front of a dark recess. She punched her personal code and a greenish light began to flicker around a large alcove that jarred with the clean lines of the Starfleet gear around it. A circle way above her head started to send jagged rays on a random pattern. The whole set up had a malevolent aura about it but she gazed at it with fondness.  
There was space for a standing adult just underneath the dazzling disc. It had only ever been used by one living being who was not there anymore.

Kathryn sat down near the console and looked at the array of conduits and plugs which adorned the Borg regeneration chamber. Once upon a time, she had known that strange piece of machinery inside out. She had helped its owner repair it, improve it, enhance it. Now, it was just another bit of surplus equipment, forgotten by most, used by none.

The day after the funeral, she had told Engineering to remove the alcove from her quarters. One morning it was there, the following evening her bedroom was missing an entire wall. She knew it had been put in storage but had not asked where. It was irrelevant.  
Months later, a young but already resourceful Miral had gone walk about one afternoon, circumventing all the ship security door locks. Kathryn had searched the cargo bay, looking for the child who might have wandered there. What she had found instead had stopped her in her tracks. Whoever had been in charge of removing the alcove from her lodgings had not been gentle. She recalled her shock at discovering the gutted Borg equipment heaped against a wall, broken fragments strewn across the floor.

She had been so angry. Had her crew hated Seven so much? Or had the anger been directed at her guilt for not asking what had been done to the Borg regeneration pod? For forgetting about it.

Janeway had picked up one piece, then another, discovered they fitted together, forgotten all about why she had entered the cargo bay in the first place and had set to reconstruct the alcove that very same afternoon.  
After several attempts at raising his captain, Chakotay had found her in the cargo bay, hitting a Borg processing sub-unit with her bare hands, tears streaming down her face. He had tried to stop her, telling her that he could help her grieve if only she talked to him. She had accused him of being jealous and of hating the ex-Borg drone, all the while screaming obscenities. They had both ended up in sickbay, Chakotay with a bloody nose, her curled up on the floor.

After attending to the physical injuries, the Doctor had prescribed twice-weekly counselling sessions, threatening to relieve her of duty if she did not comply. She had wondered if he had used that particular word on purpose. Whatever the reason, she had abided.

Over the weeks that followed she had started to repair the Borg alcove in earnest, snatching a few hours of precious off time from her duties here and there. At first, she had only talked to the ship's counsellor about how that work was going, describing the ins and outs of the foreign technology ad nauseam. As the chamber had taken shape, the one-sided conversation had turned to the crew member who had used it, as if she was discussing Seven's evaluation for a medal commendation.  
Chakotay never interrupted the monotonous voice during the counselling sessions. The Captain's eyes never met his.

At her request, he had been there when Kathryn had switched the fully operational alcove back on. After a few minutes, he had left her alone, knowing she would open up to him only when she was ready to genuinely talk about her relationship with Seven. It had taken her another two months to do so.

She closed her eyes, letting the green light bathe her face. The light and the small sounds the alcove generated during the regeneration cycle were crowding her memories. She remembered the touch of the Borg's hands on her back when the younger woman slid in bed beside her and the smell of her own arousal at the feel of her lover's skin.  
Those short years with Seven had been the most remarkable and frustrating years of her life. Seven was not one to bow down to anybody's decisions until she understood the logic behind. Being the captain, Kathryn Janeway was not given to the habit of explaining every single decision she made. Some of the rows between them had reverberated through several decks before one or the other, usually the older woman, had calmed down long enough to re-start the conversation and Seven's education.

Kathryn smiled, recollecting the tall woman stating in her deep sensual voice how the crew would benefit from the Borg's more efficient ways of doing things. No matter if those improvements were often incompatible with Starfleet equipment or principles. For all the younger woman's beauty, it was that sharp and yet fledgling mind which had drawn her to Seven, first as a mentor, then as a lover for five incredible years.

After one particularly satisfying early morning romp, Kathryn had fingered the implant above Seven's left eyebrow, asking how it felt to wear the metal grafts. Seven had explained that they were as much a part of her as was her hair. She had added tersely that there was no purpose to such curiosity and had left the warmth of their bed, clearly flustered. Kathryn had dropped the subject immediately, sensitive to the ex-drone discomfort.  
Like many Voyager crew members, Seven had made the EMH the trustee of her will in the event of her death. She had very few possessions, never one to accumulate much.  
"She wanted you to have this," the Doctor had said after the funeral, handing Janeway a small box. The Captain had put it in her bedside drawer, leaving it unopened for many weeks. It could have been a lock of hair, as was the customs of the historical periods Janeway liked to recreate on the holodeck.

Kathryn took the implant out of her pocket and put it on the console, her fingers caressing the elegant metal piece. Sentimentality had never been part of the ex-drone's being and she had possessed an almost flawless recall. This small relic of Borg technology and the thoughtful gesture represented much of the paradox that Seven had been. Unique, human, caring.

Footsteps resonated in the aisle behind Janeway. She welcomed the familiar sound. Only one person had ever joined her on that date to remember a mutual friend.

"Captain," the young man said while sitting at her side, his delicate profile showing against the light.

"Icheb, I am no longer the captain. I have been a plain Science Officer for the past three months now. Call me Kathryn." She put her hand on his knee and pushed herself up to put some life back in her legs.

The words 'plain' and 'Kathryn Janeway' did not fit well together, but he did not comment. Instead, he took out two glasses and the traditional bottle of replicated Antarian cider from the bag he brought every year to this very same spot.  
He filled her glass first, then his. He could not see the colour of the drink very well in the green light but the apple-like smell started to make its potency known.

"Do you regret giving up the captaincy?" he asked, his head cocked at her.

Many people had asked her that very same question. She had answered them with parts of the truth: it was time to let the younger officers take charge, this generational ship needed a command change, she wanted to spend more time doing research and teaching the ever growing number of children who were born on Voyager.

She took a sip of her glass, savouring the sharp taste. It was their custom to finish the bottle so there was no hurry.  
It had not just been her decision. Chakotay was tired, feeling too worn out to survive more away missions and fend off random attacks. He had never been after the captaincy and did not want to serve under anybody else than her. On the brink of their teenage years, their own children were demanding more of their parents' time as they grew up, rather than less.

The Captain and her First Officer had resigned together, with a six month hand over to the new command team. It was not like they were going to disappear in the sunset. If Captain Kim and Commander Paris needed their advice, they were only one comm badge away.

"Yes, I do," she finally answered. "I regret not having all that make Voyager the best ship in this Quadrant at my command. I miss that."

"But?"

Naomi had done a good job at helping her spouse develop a keen insight into people's psyche, she thought. Seven, older and so much more stubborn, was still trying to grow that aspect of her humanity when she had been killed in the freak shuttle accident. She would have never asked that short but potent question if the previous answer had satisfied her sense of logic.

"But." Kathryn rolled the word in her mind. "But, I have lost enough people," she finally conceded, contemplating her glass.

Sounded selfish. As if she had given the new captain a box full of names, told him that was his job now to send them to their deaths and washed her hands clean of any further responsibility. Still, after twenty-seven years as Voyager's captain, maybe she did deserve some rest.

She gulped the remainder of her drink and Icheb filled up her glass again. He was still holding on his. He never consumed alcohol, synthetic or otherwise, except for that one annual pilgrimage to honour his long gone friend.

Over the next hour, they drank what was left of the bottle, exchanging family news (Naomi was expecting their second child) and ship gossip (Chell's cooking mainly). They did talk about Seven, a few words only. Over the years, they had told and re-told their stories many times. Now it was the quiet companionship they appreciated most of all.

The bottle emptied, they switched off the alcove and returned to their lives. Leaving the cavernous cargo bay behind, Kathryn blinked at the sudden onslaught of light and sound. While she stood on the door threshold getting her emotional bearings back, Icheb unexpectedly hugged her, murmuring a thank you. Her body stiffened at first from surprise, then she responded 'appropriately' as Seven would have said, embracing him warmly.

 _It's been a good day, today. And not just for me_ , Janeway smiled, watching the Brunali man disappear down the corridor. _The ship's counsellor will be pleased._


	2. Chapter 2 - Birthday

**Chapter 2 - Birthday**

"Oh, Chakotay. It's just so… Every year, you surpass yourself but this is something very special."

He smiled at her obvious delight, feeling her hand squeezing his through the heavy gloves. Only the muffled sounds of their breathing could be heard for a while as they floated away.

"She is magnificent, isn't she?" she whispered.

Voyager was shimmering under the light of two nameless planet-free suns, far enough for their combined radiation not to be a danger to the space farers in their suits. They were hovering underneath the port nacelle on their way for a grand tour of the ship.

"I'll have to give it to Engineering. I can't see where the older Voyager stops and the newest upgrades start," Kathryn mused.

"Tom told me that Naomi fought B'Elanna hard to get her design changes accepted," chuckled Chakotay.

"I heard Naomi said something to the effect that nobody wanted Voyager to look like a half-digested Borg cube. She must have got the Chief Engineer's attention with that comment. But the results are perfect," said Janeway.

She pressed the small joystick on her power pack forward and begun to slide past the night side of the ship. The more recent additions to the underside included four more cargo bays than the original ship had started with, and a couple of large photon canons hidden under burgeoning humps. Voyager did look a bit more plump underneath than when Chakotay had seen it for the first time near the Caretaker array, so long ago. He sympathised. Age did cause him to sag too. _Just a little_ , he thought wryly.  
They continued their leisurely flight, moving up along the illuminated decks and watching from afar as small humanoid shapes were touching up the letters and numbers emblazoned on the forward part of the starship. The Federation might still be tens of thousands light years away but the ship matriculation needed to stand proud and clear. Chakotay hoped the cleaning crew did not see their job as a nuisance. He reminded himself that it was not his call anymore.

They halted above the curved stern.  
"Thank you for such a beautiful birthday present, Chakotay. You must have had to pull a few strings to allow us to be here. I haven't done an EVA for years. I am surprised I was let out of the cargo bay!"

Chakotay snorted. "I mentioned the idea to the Doctor, who said he couldn't do anything without referring it to the Captain, who sent the request to the Recreation Committee, who decided that I needed to ask the Doctor. You can imagine how long the approval process took. It's good I started the whole thing weeks ago and you had your annual medical check-up in between."

He had started to drift away and he realigned his position next to Janeway with a few thrusts. "Is it just me or does the list of signatures to authorise anything on this ship get longer every day?" he added wistfully.

She suppressed a good-natured laugh. The establishment of various committees had been contentious and many crew members were still wondering what it was all about. "Don't reject their way of doing things. We are still in one piece," Janeway answered, her gold plated helmet visor hiding her face. _And if it can help reduce our losses, I am all for it_.

Chakotay did not need to see his wife's expression to know what she was thinking. Kathryn's birthday was only two weeks after Remembrance Day and she had been very quiet since the ceremony. He understood the value of honouring fallen crew members for the comfort of those left behind to grow old. After all, it had been his idea but it took a lot out of her. The guilt was still there, ready to rise again at times like these. Long days would pass and her silence would deepen, letting the memories take over her thoughts.  
In previous years, something would have happened to stop a complete withdrawal: a sudden attack, a drop in supplies, and the captain would not have the time to dwell on the past until the emergencies were out of the way and new challenges took their place. This year was different and he had been trying to find ways to keep her busy through that period. Even though they were not the command team any longer, he wanted to continue to lighten her burden as he had done for the past twenty-seven years.

It was Tom who had given him the idea to take Kathryn on a spacewalk. Chakotay wondered how many EVA time the elder Paris had accumulated since he'd retired from flying Voyager. He doubted the former helm officer waited for approval when he wanted to don a spacesuit.  
Tom had been right though: space walking was indescribable. The sensation of almost touching space, the view unimpeded by screens and sensor arrays, the silence that was never total on Voyager with the environmental controls and the engines always whispering in the background. He had not expected the serenity, the beauty of it all. He was at the centre of the universe, 13 billion light years surrounding him like a vast, immutable cocoon.

He felt Kathryn's hand on his arm. She was pointing to something on the port side of the ship. The installation of the new astrometric array that Icheb had commissioned had caught her eyes. They landed on the hull, their magnetised soles making a dull sound through the spacesuits. Finding Naomi supervising the project, they spent a few minutes looking over the new equipment with the Assistant Chief Engineer.

Leaving the young half-Katarian to her work, Kathryn continued to talk about the scientific breakthrough the new array would bring to the revitalised Science Department. Chakotay was happy to see her buoyed and elated about her work as the self-appointed Department Head.  
They fell into a comfortable conversation, waving at the repair crews as they flew slowly past. The ship was immobile, caught at the stable Lagrange point between the two suns. The week-long stay was running into its last day and there was still much to do before heading back towards the Alpha Quadrant.

They came back through the busy cargo bay external door, grateful for the help of the standby crew in getting out of their spacesuits suddenly cumbersome and heavy as the ship's artificial gravity reclaimed them. Walking to their quarters, Kathryn grew silent, earning her an inquisitive look from her husband.

"A coffee for your thoughts?" he asked. She smiled at their long standing joke about her caffeine addiction.

"Seeing Voyager like that, from space, so … ," she started to say, hesitant.

Chakotay watched her unobtrusively, wondering about her change of mood. She had not stopped talking enthusiastically about their trip outside until they had stripped back into their civvies. He liked the cheerfulness that had emerged more fully now that her command mask had started to slip away. He wanted to see more of it. _Early days, baby steps_ , he reminded himself.

He took the lead. "I've always been a bit jealous of Voyager, the way you talk about it in such an intimate fashion, as if it is alive. I still remember how it was to pilot the _Val Jean_ , but it was never more than a ship to me."

"You were a Maquis, a renegade trying to avoid Starfleet captains like me while battling the Cardassian armada. You did not have the time to be sentimental about your ship," she said, threading her hand through his arm.

"As much as I liked the Val Jean, that old ship was more a mean to an end," Chakotay conceded.

Kathryn stopped in front of the door to their quarters, ignoring the crew members passing by. "When I became the captain, I bonded with Voyager, considered her as more than an assemblage of bulkheads, conduits, tritanium. I always felt that she is part of the family, a member of the crew with her own needs and idiosyncrasies."

"What did you see today that changed that?" he asked, entering the entry code to their lodgings.

She waited until the door closed behind them. Then facing him, she put her hand on his chest, pushing slightly against his bulk. "Do you think we'll ever get back to the Alpha Quadrant?" she asked him, looking up, her face close to his.

"Yes, I think we'll get there. Eventually," he answered, confused by the change of subject.

"I don't mean the rest of the crew or the children," she countered, shaking her head. "I mean us, you and me, do you think we'll ever see Earth again?" she asked, her blue eyes searching his face. "I am 65 today, Chakotay. We are still more than 40,000 light years from Earth. I have resigned myself to thinking that I won't see my mother and maybe not even my sister again. Short of a miracle, Voyager has a very long way to go yet."

"Yes I know, love," Chakotay said slowly, covering her small hand with his.  
Maybe it had not been such a good idea after all to get her to take the day off for her birthday, he thought. It had only been a few weeks since they had resigned their commissions. There was also the anniversary of the accident coming up soon.  
He castigated himself. Spirits, he had not been attentive enough to what this year's milestones would mean to her, not supportive enough to help her through such another monumental transition in her life. Starfleet captains were either promoted, retired or resigned, but they never got to stay on their own ship, seeing a new command team take over. Once again, she had created a new precedent, but it would only help the next captain, not her. Never her. _You are the ship's counsellor, Chakotay, and you can't see the person you love has the most need of you_.

He brushed a lock of grey hair off her forehead, then took her hands in his, almost enveloping her with his taller body. "Tell me what you saw out there."  
She had always tended to keep her innermost feelings at bay, even after she had married him and had let him come closer than ever before. Over the years, he had helped her peel off her emotional layers and make sense of the conflicts intrinsic to her personality, although her merciless self-analysis skills could lay much of his efforts to waste on occasions. He hoped today was not one of those.

"Do you remember on New Earth? I accused you of giving up, of making a home there instead of helping me find a cure so we could leave," she said.

"I do remember. You wanted to get Voyager back to the Alpha Quadrant and being stranded on New Earth was not part of your plan." He had made the best of their forced stay on the planet, contented, at peace. The memory of that place which he had shared with the love of his life had filled his dreams for many long years afterwards.  
It had taken her much longer to accept their circumstances. Then the ship's crew had abruptly brought them back on board and she had resumed her job to lead them home, the new bond the two of them had forged on New Earth set aside in the shadows of her promise to the crew.

"I said that I could not wait for a future that might never happen. Is that what you felt today, looking at the ship? That the future was passing you by?" he asked, his heart sinking.

"No," she simply said, smiling one of those rare but magnificent smiles he always hungered for. "Today, I saw Voyager as never before and I realised that I am already truly home".

* * *

 _Dedicated to all those who make their homes in far away lands._


	3. Chapter 3 - Remembrance Day

**Chapter 3 – Remembrance Day**

"Enjoy the good days, Captain Kim", she had said to him, pinning the four pips on his collar. "And relax …", she'd whispered.  
"Or I am going to sprain something?" Harry had replied in her ear, a knowing smile on his face. Then he had straightened up and shaken her hand, his face all serious again. Chakotay had crushed his fingers while complementing him on his 'well overdue promotion'.

More scenes of the day flashed in his mind. Tom complaining about something in his eye as Janeway talked about the excellent example the former pilot and the Chief Engineer had set for Voyager's new Commander. The twins rushing to his side at the end of the handover ceremony. Getting ever so drunk at Sandrine's Mark 4. Hugging Kathryn very tightly and going on all maudlin.  
Not his best memory of the day.

He put on the pips, checking in the mirror if they were lined up straight. Another twenty-seven years and he should be able to do it with his eyes closed.  
Two months in the job and he still felt as if on probation. It was bloody hard to take over from Kathryn Janeway as Voyager's Captain. It was not that he did not have the experience. There had been many times over the past two decades when he had replaced the Commander, and a couple when both had been missing in action and he had sat in the captain's chair on the bridge for days on end. But he had never really felt in charge. He had just been only holding the fort until the command team was back. There was still something he was missing about that job which was so much more than just a job.

When Janeway had announced she would be stepping down, he had started reading Voyager's old logs. He wanted to go back to those first few years when she had taken command of the ship, thinking he would learn much by studying her decisions at a time when her command experience was relatively new.  
It had not been enough. There was something intangible but important that he had not grasped yet. He had no idea what is was and was getting frustrated. Maybe he should relax a bit, as she had told him several times already.

10:05 hours. Time to leave for the service.

He'll be busy on the bridge after that. Maybe he should ask Chakotay if he could look after the twins afterwards. The kids worshipped the guy. Nothing to do with learning how to box, going on camping trips on every suitable planet Voyager visited, and talking to their personal animal guides.  
He better not call on Tom if there was no other adult to supervise the three of them. The former pilot's experience with brooding quarter-Klingon teenagers made him an excellent god father to the twins, but their last piloting lesson had seen them lost for hours in a plasma storm. Today was not the day to risk a similar adventure.  
There was Miral too, he thought. She was closer to his kids than to him, age wise. They looked up to her and Naomi. He was one of the Firsts as the youngsters now called the original crew members, while she was the second child to be born on Voyager. Although asking the new Commander to look after his children may not be quite what Starfleet had in mind when they had written her job description. Anyway, she'll be on the bridge with him.

He had timed his arrival on the holodeck. Not the first one in as he used to be when he was just an Ensign attending similar events. Not among the latest either, leaving that honour to the former command team. After all, this year he would still sit among the crew, all ranks intermingled.

He sat down near Chief Security Ayala, leaving two chairs on his left for the twins who were admiring the large winged spirit's sculpture at the front of the building.  
The setting was impressive. It reminded him of a ruined cathedral, the large stone walls and spire pointing up to the sky, the absence of a ceiling emphasising the vast sky beyond, empty arches framing a tranquil rustic scenery outside.

When the Commander had first conceived the idea of remembering their fallen comrades on a special day some twelve years earlier, the EMH and the command team had worked closely together. Now the Doctor handled all the ceremonial details and quite thoughtfully at that. The design was solemn but not dark, the ceremony introspective and all-including.  
Harry put a reminder on his cloud diary to congratulate the hologram at the end of the day.

The crowd settled in, the noise masking the soft music at times. A lump formed in his throat. It was going to be hard for him as it had been every year since Marla had gone, taken away too soon. Much too soon.  
His son and daughter made their way to their seats, overawed by the significance of the occasion. Before he had the time to turn towards them, he saw the former command team entering the space left clear in front of the seated crew. Janeway stood on the raised platform while Chakotay stayed on the side.  
She waited for a few heartbeats. "Friends," she started quietly.

Harry spent much of the ceremony closely observing the former Captain. Next year, it was going to be his turn to officiate so he distracted himself from the sad thoughts in his mind by watching how Janeway was able to lift the crew spirits while thanking all who had died in the line of duty 'to help us get home'. She was sombre and moving, the words just right, talking about family, the living 'left to grow old' as the poem said.  
Her voice broke only once when evoking their latest loss. Decades after his brilliant mind had started its inexorably descent into darkness, Tuvok's physical health had suddenly deteriorated. He had faded away in a few weeks, his death the first on Voyager in more than five years.  
Chakotay stood up when she faltered, putting his hand on her left shoulder and leaving it there for the remainder of her short speech.

Janeway had insisted that she would perform that last duty even though she was no longer captain. "The crew members we will remember on that day all died on my watch. I want to do this for the last time. I need to do this," she had said softly during a Senior Officer meeting. Chakotay had looked decidedly uneasy. Harry had just nodded. Her request was illogical, but former Captain Janeway could ask for whatever she wanted as far as he was concerned.

He let his body relaxed and his mind drift. The sounds of the crowd ebbed, just a buzz in the background. The light dimmed a little. He was aware of people about him but felt separate from them as if he was watching from afar.  
He looked around. He could just make out Janeway and Chakotay standing close together. But now, they were receding slowly into the distance until they were mere silhouettes against a bright backdrop. The crowd opened up, leaving him alone on the podium. He was grey and hunched, speaking to young crew members he did not recognise, about people they had never met.  
A deep feeling of unconceivable loss and sorrow overwhelmed him. He squeezed his son's hand tight.

A nervous Ensign replaced Janeway and read the names of those who had died, their faces shown on the wall behind her. Accidents, inexplicable disappearances, attacks, incurable diseases, all had taken their toll on Voyager's crew over the years.  
Some Harry remembered well. Martin, Ballard, Bendera. Others he had only known for a few days before Voyager had been abducted by the Caretaker a generation ago. Cavit, Stadi.  
He pondered the thought that if it had not been for another Captain Janeway, his name and that of Naomi would have joined that list. He had come to grips with his miraculous survival a long time ago, another strangeness to add to their long trek through the Delta quadrant.

The Val Jean crew members he had never met.

Seska. Her infamous role in putting Voyager in serious jeopardy still condemned, but not on this day.

The baby Borg the Doctor had been unable to save.

One.

Seven.

Marla Gilmore-Kim.  
The familiar pain, not quite yet stilled by time. So many years without her.

Tuvok.

"We will remember them". Those last words were repeated by all, in one strong voice. Then they stood up for a minute of silence, heads bowed.  
A baby's cry at the back of the seats broke the sombre mood a few seconds before the end of the quiet vigil.

"And now let's go back to the present, as our youngest crew member has just reminded us," said Janeway. She stood down from the podium for the last time, smiling. People begun to mingle among their friends, the younger kids left to run outside the splendid building.

After fussing over the twins, Harry accompanied Janeway and Chakotay in their tour of the crowd, talking to crew members as they walked past. He knew the former command team would spend more time with many of them over the next few evenings. They had visited him and the kids every year after Marla's death and he had always appreciated that private time, outside of any duty or rank. The children had been too young to remember their mother but the adults had done their best to get them to know her. To know her love for them.

They fell into a discussion with Tom about the get together at the end of the week. Now that Kim was the Captain he was less involved in the day to day stuff and he let the three friends chat away. He listened to the music, a classical composition he had heard before but could not quite place.  
Definitely XIXth century Earth. A waltz of some sort? Very … pastoral. Not his favourite kind of music.

Chakotay abruptly stomped off, leaving Harry confused. He was going to ask what it was all about when Tom took him firmly by the elbow. "I need to talk to Captain Kim about the Delta Flyer VI. We'll see you later, Kathryn."  
She took no heed of them, her hand keeping time with the melody while watching the Doctor and Chakotay having what seemed to be a heated argument.

Shaking Tom off, Harry suddenly remembered when he had first and last heard that particular piece. The violins and wind instruments had echoed loudly throughout the ship, accompanying the march of soldiers in hard boots and black uniforms in their never ending searches for victimised passengers the Captain had sworn to protect.  
He recalled an arrogant leather-clad officer, gloved and masterful, who had sat in the Captain's chair and ruled the bridge, each inspection bringing him closer to the prize he coveted until he had lost it all and left Voyager's wake, never to be seen again.

The EMH was now retreating hastily towards the holodeck control panel, Chakotay looming behind him. The early theme of the piece started to repeat, the tempo accelerating and swirling in the vast space.

Harry turned towards Janeway. She was still watching Chakotay, a strange smile on her face. At the time, he had not grasped the subtleties of the dance between the dangerous alien man and the Captain. The undercurrents. The yearning for a different end.  
He had been too young. Too naïve. Too many protocols in his head. He had seen much but understood very little.

The symphony stopped, replaced by an anodyne tune. Chakotay came back to Janeway's side, his brow still dark and angry. She placed a hand on his chest, calming him down. Then they left the holodeck together, the crowd already thinning, oblivious.

Harry laughed. No more log books and dissecting his former CO's decisions. He knew what had happened all these years back. He had been there.

He just had to remember.

* * *

 _ _Lest we forget.__


	4. Chapter 4 - Tuvok's Death

**Chapter 4 – Tuvok's death**

 _Note to the Reader._

 _This year marks the 50_ _th_ _anniversary of Voyager's return home. This auspicious date also coincides with the release of the personal logs of Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay._

 _It is well known that the Starfleet ruling to keep those logs confidential for so long has caused considerable frustration among Federation scholars and the families of Voyager's crew over the years. Without access to these crucial primary sources of information, many of the former command team's decisions were left wide open to criticisms, including, sadly to say, from Starfleet admiralty itself._

 _One such decision which remains one of the most important events in Voyager's history was the simultaneous retirement of both the captain and her second-in-command in the early months of 2397. Only a thorough study of their personal logs, carefully correlated with other knowledge sources such as the Doctor's records, could reveal the critical influence Commander Tuvok's death had on the command team's decision to finally relinquish their joint responsibilities after twenty-seven years at Voyager's helm._

 _As with similar publications by the Voyager Foundation (see previous chapters), the excerpt below is a dramatized interpretation of the study's findings. Scholars are invited to download the complete annotated analysis (#2397-4) from the Foundation Open Library._

 _Captain (Rtd)_ _Elizabeth Janeway  
_ _Dr Kolopak Jnr Janeway-Paris  
_ _Patrons of t_ _he Voyager Foundation (est. 2440) – 50_ _th_ _Anniversary Project  
_ _August 2487, Indiana._

* * *

"Tuvok? I've brought you a present," she said, entering the over lit room after the door chime was answered.

 _ _The EMH had found the Captain in sick bay one late evening waiting for him. She had waived his offer of medical help away.  
__ _" _Tell me about Tuvok's condition, Doctor. I read your report but I would prefer if you could tell me," she had asked instead.__

The floor was half obscured by sheets of paper blackened by small handwriting. Equations and drawings punctuated the cursive text, a confusing combination of Standard and Vulcan scripts with a smattering of mathematical symbols from languages picked up in the Delta Quadrant. With practised ease, she walked carefully through the chaos, avoiding knocking down the candles scattered unhazardously across the carpet.

 _ _The Doctor had gone straight to the point. He knew Janeway was not going to accept anything less than the raw truth.__

 _" _Captain. I'll spare you the biochemistry. The readings show his physical condition has been deteriorating rapidly since my last examination only a month ago. His eyesight and fine motor skills are declining. He weight has dropped. He has problems sleeping. However, I am more concerned that as his physical condition worsens, it will have a deleterious impact on his mental state."__

She suddenly felt herself pushed hard against a wall, a hot breath and hard words dripping on her right cheek.  
"Tuvok. What's wrong?"

 _" _Explain."  
__ _" _What mental faculties Commander Tuvok has retained since his initial diagnosis have been pretty much stable for the past twenty years, as you know. While he cannot operate as a bridge officer, he has for the most part acted in a remarkably rational manner within the world he has built for himself. More to the point, he has managed to uphold much of the Vulcan self-control over his emotions. But now he is getting more frail, more easily tired. This is going to strain his mind control as his body begins to weaken. He will experience short term memory loss at first, followed by confusion and then eventually hallucinations."__

 _" _I visited him yesterday. He did not remember our visit to the bridge the week before but had clear recollections of our early years in the Delta Quadrant," she had admitted.__

"Why have you come?"

"I've brought something from the airponics bay." She held out a plant, fleshy leaves sheltering a thick spike of heavily scented blue flowers. "It's an orchid you and Kes created. You were trying to improve the depth of colour but she wanted it to smell nice too."

 _ _She had leaned against the biobed, as if taking strength from the tough metal frame. "I talked to Chakotay. He said remembering the past may help distract Tuvok from what is happening to him now. He suggested people should help him revisit earlier times of his life."__

 _"_ _ _I think that is an excellent idea, Captain. Maybe making the dishes that Neelix used to serve Mr Tuvok. The olfactory senses are a great window to the past."__

His hand cupped her chin, dark eyes searching her face for something familiar from the deeper depths of his memory. "I remember Kes. But I don't know you," he said slowly.

"It's me, Tuvok. Captain Janeway."

 _" _Could Tuvok hurt himself?" she had asked after a long period of silence.  
__ _" _He is going to get more confused, more easily frustrated when the present and the past begin to clash. And his strength is still superior to that of a human. It is difficult to know if he will turn his frustration against himself or others once his mind control starts to slip away. But it won't be on purpose."__

He got hold of her wrist. The small pot bounced on the carpeted floor, the flowers strewn about like confetti on the white pages. "You are not Captain Janeway. She is dead. Voyager exploded. You were on the bridge. You are dead."

It was like he was talking about two different captains. Was it about the time the Viidians had boarded Voyager after it had divided itself into two exact copies? Only Kim and Naomi had made the jump from the doomed version of the ship. Had Tuvok been privy to the discussions she had had with the copy of herself? She could not remember. She had ordered Voyager to self-destruct. Or rather her duplicate had.

 _" _Is there anything we can do?"__

 _" _The Vulcan brain is not as plastic as that of humans. Once his disease took hold, there was nothing much I could do medically speaking. And now, it may be better for him when …"__

"What did you see Tuvok?"

"Light, blinding light. And then darkness for a long time. Seven. Seven helped me. Where is Seven?"

"Seven is dead, Tuvok. She died a long time ago."

He did not see the cloud darkening her eyes. Helping him remember his past was bringing unwanted memories into her mind. She did not really want to revisit times she much preferred to leave untouched.

 _" _He may not be the Commander we all knew and respected, but there is still much that is Tuvok in that mind of his. I won't give up on him that easily." She had given the EMH the full benefit of her icy blue stare, making sure he understood perfectly where he was not to tread.__

 _ _The Doctor had retreated. "Yes, Captain. Of course. Well, I suggest we maintain his current routine: regular visits, outings, exercises. I would like all those who visit him to make notes of his condition. He's never liked me as he says and the least he sees me the better."__

 _" _Thank you Doctor. I'll make sure everybody does what you are asking." He had expected her to leave but she had lingered, toying with the edge of the small office table.__

He shook his head. "She is there. There is debris everywhere. I can't make my way around without her help. Entire sections are too hazardous for access. The crew has taken to the escape pods. Only a handful of us have stayed behind. The Captain is still there but not for long."

There was no escaping his train of thoughts but she was confused by his story. She knew the Viidian episode had preceded Seven's arrival on Voyager. He was manifestly remembering a different moment in his past but she could not place the details.

 _ _The Doctor had busied himself entering data on his PADD and almost missed the softly spoken question.__

 _" _How long?"__

 _ _The dreaded question. Tuvok was a unique case, the one that had eluded him for such a long time and now the end was coming. Fast.__

 _" _Weeks at best, Captain. My opinion is that his decline will accelerate. His fitness was key to help keep his mind under control. The training that Commander Chakotay devised for him so many years ago has done more for his mental health than anything I have been able to come up with. Now that his body is finally failing him.. ." He did not need to continue.__

He strengthened his grip on her wrist, oblivious to the crumbling of the small bones underneath. She gasped but did not protest. If she called Security, they would sedate him. The Doctor would insist that the Commander needed to be restrained or monitored in sickbay. Tuvok had so little time left. She could not take that away from him.

 _" _Doctor, your care has been exemplary. You cannot be faulted."__

 _" _But it has not been enough, Captain. I am afraid that he is drifting out of our reach."__

 _ _She had curtly nodded acceptance of the fact. "I want a weekly report on his condition, Doctor," she had said before leaving him alone.__

 _ _It had been a very long time since the EMH had wished the last person to leave sickbay would deactivate him.__ _ _Remaining standing in the middle of sickbay, he had wondered about what would become of the Captain after Tuvok's death. The Vulcan was her oldest friend on Voyager, her only link to a life before the Caretaker, before the Delta Quadrant. Would Tuvok be his only patient over the next few weeks?__

"What happened to the Captain?" She focused on keeping her voice calm and steady.

He closed his eyes and pushed his thumb into the back of her palm, ignoring her pain. "The Captain is hurt. Ensign Kim tells me she has scars on her hand." His other hand followed the contour of her jaw. "And there too."

She did not remember ever being injured like that. She had never lived through what Tuvok was relating. The story was not part of her past. How could it be a part of his?

His fingers moved along her face, suddenly pressing hard on her cheek, the corner of the eye, the forehead. She tried to push him away this time but he leaned forward, pinning her against the wall. Images took over her thoughts as the Vulcan forcibly initiated a mind meld.

She saw Voyager's bridge half destroyed, conduits hanging from broken ceiling tiles, smoking consoles, the lighting dimmed. She recognised B'Elanna, Neelix, Seven, all looking exhausted and grimy. A much younger self wearing a grey tank top, a round silver object attached to the belt. Half-healed burns on her face and hand as Tuvok had just described. She looked around for Chakotay but did not see him. It did not occur to her that the Chakotay she knew and loved might not be at her side.

Tuvok spoke again, the proximity of his voice grating with the strange visions rammed into her mind. "We argue about the ship. Then she puts her arms around me, to say goodbye. I just hold her for a small moment and say the traditional Vulcan salute. That is the only response I allow myself. That is all I can let her see of what I really feel."

The images disappeared, replaced by a gigantic thundercloud of emotions, engulfing her as the walls of his mind breached.

Despair, shame, guilt, pride, admiration.

Love.

Loss.

"I wanted so much to tell her how proud I was to have worked under her. How my life on Voyager far from my family had been so much more fulfilling because of her. That I would always remember the sound of her laugh, the shape of her face. How she helped me become a better man when I thought striving to be a better Vulcan was sufficient."

His fingers slid off her face. Her thoughts rushed back into the sudden void.

"Instead I left without letting her know how I felt. I never told her how I was crying inside. For her. For my friend."

He fell on his knees, taking Janeway with him like a drowning man. 

* * *

Half an hour later, Janeway raised her husband on his comm badge, asking him to come alone. Alarmed by the tone of her voice, Chakotay run down the corridor and used his override code to open the door to Tuvok's quarters.  
The scene in front of him was not what he had feared he would find.

Tuvok was asleep, his tall body peacefully stretched among a carpet of small blue flowers. Janeway was sitting on the floor, her back propped against the wall, her left hand resting on his shoulder. Her tears long dried up, she was whispering to him over and over again that he would always be her friend and that she loved him too.


	5. Chapter 5 - Transitions

**Chapter 5 - Transitions**

"Need a hand?"

B'Elanna did not need to look up to sense the slightly crooked smirk and blue eyes grinning down at her. Annoyed, she glanced around for a way out, trying to ignore the barely veiled sarcasm. She had chosen the more difficult but straighter route, convinced she would race first to the top. Kathryn had gone to the right, a slow passage that double backed on itself but had delivered the older and less robust woman to the top of the cliff in less than two hours.

It was rather unfair, B'Elanna reflected, while holding to the sloping rock by three fingers and half a toehold. Just when you thought you had the measure of Kathryn Janeway, there she was, some thirty metres above your head, while you were left dangling below with nowhere to go.

It was also thoroughly predictable and somewhat reassuring.

The double suns were slipping towards the horizon and there would be no moons to light up the night sky, she knew.

Time to make a move.

She let go.

* * *

"For spirit's sake! What were you thinking?"

"I knew I could do it," B'Elanna said, grumbling.

Minus a few square centimetres of skin on the underside of both arms, two dislocated fingers and one rather sore shoulder. None of which had hurt much during the hour it had taken her to finally catch up with Kathryn. She had been thoroughly distracted by the string of Klingon expletives raining down the rock face, the kind of which she had never heard uttered by a human before.

Now that she was not moving, she was beginning to feel her aches. Still, Kathryn was surely over-reacting, ripping into the first aid kit the shuttle had deposited with all the other supplies at their destination camp.

B'Elanna glanced at her friend's pale and lined face. Maybe Kathryn had a point. Sliding down to the ledge they had beamed to in mid-afternoon might have been a fairly risky thing to do. Voyager was not due for another day, and the mountain they had been climbing was off the beaten track. Not the best place and time to get badly injured.

The isolation and challenge were the main attractions of the location had said Kathryn when inviting her to the trip. Just the two of them, fresh air, an easy climb according to Voyager's scan of the cliff, and two days without PADDs, projects, spouses, kids, and the usual distractions the Delta quadrant made a habit of throwing at them. Nothing but a pink horizon and a twenty-kilometre high peak the size of a planetoid, sitting proud in the middle of a vast rocky plain, otherwise empty of life.

"You'll have to wait until we get back to Voyager to have the tendon damage in your left hand properly looked at," Kathryn said, keeping her anger under control. "Raise your arm." She run the dermal regenerator over the bloodied skin, keeping an eye on the small screen. "Of all the things to do, you just —"

"How do you know so much Klingon?" B'Elanna interrupted, shuffling her bum on the camping mat.

Kathryn stopped what she was doing and lifted B'Elanna's chin, her eyes boring into the Chief Engineer's face. "Don't change the topic, B'E. What you did was stupid and dangerous. You could have got yourself killed if the last bolt had failed. Don't do that to me. Ever. Again. Is that clear?"

B'Elanna felt the old anger rise, the gut-wrenching reaction she used to experience when pushed into a corner by events she had no control over, or people who told her what she ought to do, feel, live her life. She had thought that emotion buried under the years and responsibilities, but the feeling had re-emerged recently, with Tom bearing the brunt of it.

Oh Kahless. Tom.

Her heart sunk. He would have been hurt beyond belief if she had died, and he would never have understood the meaningless and selfish manner of her death on this pathetic piece of rock. "I..., I am sorry," she said, defeated by the same blue stare she could imagine on her husband's face.

Kathryn lifted an eyebrow as if not quite believing B'Elanna would give up the fight so easily, then resumed treating the woman's skin for a few more seconds. Satisfied with the result, she switched the device off and turned aside to pack the first aid kit.

She should have booked the holodeck instead of dragging B'Elanna here. They used to sneak away sometime, just the two of them in the empty hologrid, exchanging gossips, talking about stuff. Miral had put that indulgence to rest. Then, there had been Seven who had taken all of her freely given time. But now, it seemed that it had not been just the four pips she had left behind with the captaincy, but also all sense of duty to her former crew. Going free climbing on an unknown planet! Kim had much too much faith in her. But of course, he would agree to about anything she did, short of ... nothing much really, when she thought about it.

In any case, she was getting much too old to survive another stunt like that. She still had not found out what was eating at B'Elanna and jumping down her throat was not going to help.

She stood up and stretched her back, before retrieving a bottle of water from the supply container. Sitting down near B'Elanna, she offered her the drink.

"I spent a month on a Bird of Prey when I was posted on the Al-Batani. I learnt a lot on that ship, especially insults for qoHs like you."

Thankful for the diversion, B'Elanna answered in a voice she hoped was not as shaky as she felt. "No mean feat for a human to serve on a Klingon ship."

Kathryn smiled. "I had heard about Commander Riker's experience. He took part in the first Starfleet Officer Exchange Programme with the Klingon, and when Starfleet asked for volunteers for the second intake, I put my hand up. I packed as many dermal regenerator recharges and anti-nausea pills I could. The reality was eye opening, to say the least."

She chuckled. "And the blood wine. And the raktajino. I had to go on a detox diet when I came back to my ship."

"Did you have to challenge those under you?" B'Elanna enquired. She gulped down the cool liquid.

"Oh no! I was only a lowly Science officer back then," Kathryn laughed. "They put me in the charge of an old and wily engineer who knew the engines of his ship inside out. Very much like another Klingon I know." Her tone dropped, wistful. "I grew very fond of him."

B'Elanna turned her head towards Janeway. The former Captain had her eyes fixed on the horizon, arms around the knees, the last rays of the twin suns playing in her greying hair.

"What happened?" B'Elanna asked, sensing the sadness in her friend's voice.

"I met the Klingon captain at a diplomatic conference a few years later. He told me K'Plar had got killed in an accident. Saved his crew by staying behind to delay a warp core implosion, refusing orders to abandon ship."

B'Elanna nodded her approval. "He died with honour." Something I would not have been able to claim if I had tumbled all the way down those rocks, she thought.

"He would not have wished for anything else," Kathryn said softly, knowing B'Elanna had grasped the not so subtle inference.

B'Elanna smiled wryly and felt her body relax. "What else did you learn, apart from some very creative curses."

"That a Bird of Prey lives and breathes the same values as any Starfleet ship: courage, dedication to a cause, discipline under fire. Klingons may not express those qualities the same way, but they are a great people, and I am fortunate indeed to count one as my friend."

Kathryn let the companionable silence grow between them, gazing at the vista stretched across the distance. She had seen more spectacular sights in a lifetime of exploration, but the tranquil scenery was soothing after the workout of the day.

She was the first to stir. Dusk was a short affair, close to the equator as they were. They still had to raise their shelter for the night, have something to eat. The local authority had warned them of sudden dust storms on top of the mesa, although the wind was light and there was no cloud to be seen in the pinkish haze. She pulled herself up, lending a hand to B'Elanna to do the same.

They soon had the small tent up, then installed a perimeter of soft light globes. The suns dipped under the horizon, leaving a purple-tinted sky behind.

"You never told me you could speak Klingon," B'Elanna pointed out, tensioning the ropes holding the tent walls.

"When I first met you, you did not seem to want to know about your non-human heritage, and frankly I had forgotten most of it."

B'Elanna mulled over the response, then did a double take. "Miral! Don't tell me. You taught Miral. I was so sure it was Tom, but he insisted he did not know enough Klingon."

"Ah, yes, well... Your daughter can be very persuasive." Clearly embarrassed, Kathryn occupied herself by opening the ration packs. "She heard me one day swearing rather vigorously at a very stubborn transducer relay. I thought there was nobody around, and I needed the release. She did not leave me alone until I taught her some more, and it all came back to me, little by little."

B'Elanna sniggered, soon joined by her friend.

The two women made themselves comfortable and tucked in the food. The night sky was busy with stars. Voyager was hurtling towards the galaxy core, and the denser clusters made a welcome change from the empty parsecs of space they had encountered at the beginning of their travel through the quadrant.

More systems to traverse made for a slower pace, Kathryn reflected. At that rate, she was going to be well into her 12th decade before seeing Earth again. She fleetingly wondered if it was really worthwhile anymore to go tearing towards a planet that would be unfamiliar to half of the ship crew by the time they arrive. Sitting here under the stars of a multitude of worlds, her body and mind at peace, it did seem a nonsensical goal to spend their lives pursuing the past.

"Why are we here, Kathryn? You hate camping," B'Elanna asked, burning her lips on the hot stew.

Kathryn's mind came rushing back to the present. "Seemed like a good occasion, with Kim on a trade mission, and the kids and their fathers sampling the neighbouring system. Besides, I don't hate camping. I just like to choose my outings."

B'Elanna remained unconvinced. "Come on, Kathryn. We haven't done this for years. Tom came to see you, didn't he? One of your coffee evenings?"

"You know?"

"Found him programming the replicator for coffees soon after Miral was born. I couldn't drink the stuff then, EMH orders, so I asked him who it was for. He told me the two of you had that … thing," B'Elanna said, waving her hand, "where he would come and talk to you about personal stuff from time to time. Told me it helped him gain perspective."

Kathryn smiled. Tom had come bearing his dark fragrant gifts on a dozen occasions in the past twenty-seven years after that very first occasion, early in their journey, when he had reeled her back on board, using a devious method which had left him adrift. Two affogatos are seemingly materialised at her door on that occasion.

He had re-appeared a few years later with the same offerings, keen to explain himself after spending a month in the brig. Then a few days after Miral's birth, as B'Elanna remembered.

He reserved the Irish coffees for when he sensed Janeway was at breaking point; like the time Kolopak and Chakotay had disappeared, taken hostage by an alien race whose name she had purposely forgotten.

Nothing much was ever said, but she had always been grateful for those unexpected visits. She had told Chakotay of course. He had just said 'good' and to her surprise, that had been the end of it. The relationship between the two men had always been a bit of mystery to her.

Paris had never came while she shared her quarters with Seven, though. She had never asked why.

"Tom is concerned about you," she said carefully.

"Miral is moving in with T'Por," B'Elanna countered.

Kathryn frowned. She was pretty sure B'Elanna was not concerned about Miral's domestic arrangements with Vorik's daughter, but she was willing to see where the topic will lead them to. "So I've heard. How do you feel about that?"

"Great. They are good together, and as long as I don't have to hug my future father-in-law, I am OK," B'Elanna said.

Kathryn put her empty pack on the ground. "I have to apologise."

B'Elanna threw Kathryn a confused look. "What about?"

"About Vorik, when he had his pon-farr and latched onto you. I knew the damage an incomplete pon-farr could do to a Vulcan, but I never considered what the consequences would be for you. I let you down. It was wrong."

"That was twenty something years ago, Kathryn. And you manifestly believed I could handle him."

"Yes, I did, but that does not excuse my behaviour."

"Well, I admit I struggled. Everybody was so concerned about Vorik, and there I was, the armour-plated Klingon all of you expected me to be. Or so I thought. And when you did treat me like one, I found out deep inside that I didn't really measure up. Still, you made the right decision based on what you knew of me then. It's not like you had much time to second-guess the situation."

Janeway snorted. "That was the issue, wasn't? All those questionable decisions I took, harried by time and a hydra of problems."

"I've never considered you were making bad decisions. It looks like whatever you decided worked at the end, and got us through."

"That's not what you said when I stranded you here, or when I forced you to get treated against your expressed wishes."

B'Elanna left out an exasperated sigh. "Come on, Kathryn. I've made my peace about Moset a long time ago, but you are still blaming yourself about the Caretaker, aren't you? Why? We've made Voyager our home, and it's been good to us."

"You've had to make your home on a ship because the decision was made for you. It was not an unavoidable accident, was it? _I_ made that decision, B'Elanna. It is still mine to bear. The years will never erase that."

Kathryn breathed in deeply, forcing herself to calm down. The transition from captain back to science had left her with too much thinking time. Chakotay had counselled her about that continual need of hers to re-assess past decisions. But right now was not about Captain Janeway's failings.

"You are right. Voyager is our home now, and I'm glad about Miral. They make a great couple," she said.

B'Elanna simply nodded, Kathryn's recollection of their early years on Voyager having brought back to her mind the disquiet she had been chewing over about for some time. "I've always wondered..., do you regret promoting me as Chief Engineer?"

Kathryn looked at her friend. Now we are going somewhere, she thought. "That was one of my better decisions, B'E. No regrets there, whatsoever."

"But Carey had seniority. He was not that bad an engineer, knew Starfleet engine manuals inside out and the staff trusted him. Why me? I was argumentative..."

"Argumentative? That's a new definition of the word," Kathryn said with a laugh. "You were loud, self-opinionated, intolerant, and belligerent. Should I go on?"

B'Elanna's mouth twitched.

"And scared," Kathryn added.

"Oh shit, yes. So why me?"

"Voyager in the Alpha Quadrant would have done well under Carey, but here? This ship needed you. Chakotay realised that before I did, and I've certainly never regretted following his advice."

"And now?"

Closer, so much closer. "Is that what has been eating at you, B'E?"

"With you retiring —"

"Not quite, Lieutenant Commander. I resigned from the captaincy. I have not retired," Janeway emphasised, a self-mocking tone in her voice.

This time, B'Elanna smiled. "With you resigning... I've been thinking."

"About who will succeed you one day?"

"Yes. I mean, I've still got quite a few years in me, but I can't hang on forever. I need to think about the ship too, not just myself."

"That is the mark of a good Starfleet officer. Who do you see taking your role?"

"Well, Naomi is the next one in line. But —."

Janeway waited. She should have known that her resignation would have a wider impact on those close to her than just a change in captain. Chakotay had kept his own counsel, not wanting to stop her. Not that she had any qualms to pass on the baton to Kim. After all, if Voyager had managed to get back home earlier, she would most probably be ensconced behind a desk at Starfleet HQ now, not allowed to touch a starship ever again. At best, a teaching post at the Academy. At worst? No, best not to think about that scenario.

The air had grown chilly, and B'Elanna put on her jacket. "Naomi is always arguing about how to do things. She is polite and all that, but she does not take no for an answer. I mean, have you seen the new cargo bays?"

"I have. Nice touch to blend them with the hull," Kathryn said, a bit at a loss at the turn in the conversation.

"It's hardly like the ship needs to be aerodynamic, is it. Do you know what she said about my original design?"

"I've heard," Kathryn said, sighing. What was it with engineers and design? "You think she was wrong?"

"No, of course, not. She is right. But she is ..."

"… argumentative?"

"Yes. And good at it too."

"Well then, you've got your answer."

"That's it? You just promote anybody who speaks the loudest?" B'Elanna exclaimed.

Janeway rolled her eyes. "Of course not. Otherwise Harry would never have made it as captain," she pointed out. "What I am saying is that Naomi is good. You've trained her, for spirit's sake. If she is still the best you've got when you are thinking of changing jobs, then promote her. Look, you're not even fifty, anyway. But once you've made your mind up, go for it. I realise now that I left it too long before stepping down. We can't afford to wait too long before putting the next generation in charge. Why do you think I promoted Miral so quickly? We've got to push them into roles I would not have dreamt of when I was that young. But you showed me, us, that it could be done, and that's the only way this ship and her crew will survive."

She smiled, feeling it was time to bring back some levity. "Do you remember when Miral disappeared for a whole day somewhere on Voyager, when she was still a toddler? Remember what she did?"

B'Elanna laughed out loud. "She had been hiding in the Delta Flyer behind a dampening field she'd set up herself, remotely programming the transporter so she could sneak in the shuttle next time Tom was on an away mission." She smiled at the memory. "I had forgotten about that."

"Think about what the kids from a quarter Klingon and a half Vulcan will be up to," Janeway said, a pretend shudder going through her. "Although the human genes they'll inherit should help tamper their talents for trouble. We, humans, are frail and irrational in comparison. Might balance out."

"Frail and irrational, says Kathryn Janeway." B'Elanna threw her arms in the air, then winced as her shoulder reminded her she should not try that again. "Well, I'll just have to make sure my other daughter does not fall for Kol. Imagine that. A quarter Klingon and a half Janeway. _That_ genetic combination will surely destroy the ship and take this quadrant with it."

Kathryn chuckled. "The kids would be appalled at us talking about them like that."

"Yep, but aren't we loving it!"

The night rung with the laughs of the two women, 40,000 light years from home.

* * *

 _My many thanks to Voyagerfictionfan for betaeing this chapter._ _Author's notes:_

 _I've realised that I miscalculated Kathryn Janeway's age in Birthday, the second chapter of this series. According to the Star Trek Annotated Timeline, KJ was born in 2335 and so should be 63 years old (not 65 as I wrote) in 2398, the 27_ _th_ _year of Voyager's journey through the Delta Quadrant._

 _Not that anybody complained..._

 _This chapter references_ Vices _by the incomparable Voyagerfictionfan, one of my own stories_ Harking the Dark _, and the Star Trek – Next Generation episode_ Encounter at Farpoint _._


	6. Chapter 6 - The Proposal

_Although the chapters of this story can be read as stand-alone, this chapter will make better sense if you read_ Chapter 1 - Anniversary _first._

* * *

 **Chapter 6 -** **The Proposal**

Chakotay rocked on the back of his heels in front of the holodeck door. The corridor was empty. It was too early for those few off-duty crew members already awake to engage in recreation other than in a warm bed.

He usually programmed a bout of boxing for the morning after the night before, a way to let the old anger shine for a while. Part of the attraction was to get pummelled in return. Kathryn had nothing on him about guilt. He just limited its effects to that one dawn, after she'd been to the cargo bay reminiscing about Seven.

But not today. Today he wanted to remember how it had all begun for him, how he had created the dark beast he'd roped and caged for twenty years, but never tamed. The one which had kept him awake overnight with whispers of betrayal and jealousy and hurt, while his wife slept by his side, a lingering smile on her face.

"Computer, run the Counselling Archive program."

~ Please state the date ~

"Stardate 55060.3."

The date was still imprinted in his memory – two months since Neelix had left Voyager for the Talaxian colony, a few weeks after Tuvok had announced he was suffering from a degenerative and incurable disease which would ultimately claim his mind first, then his life.

The end of 2377 had passed in a daze for most on board. The crew was tired, demoralised, their hope of getting home quickly fading. Even with all the shortcuts they'd found, it would be at least another three or four decades before they would see the Alpha quadrant. Quick sand clutched at the ship's hull, sapping their strength and resolve.

The Captain had retreated into herself, a repeat of her disappearing trick during their passage through the long night when nothing had stirred outside for weeks on end and she'd almost thrown herself into a one-way suicide mission.

This time, he had let her go, tired of screaming himself hoarse at the walls of self-loathing she built and re-built around her soul, braced like cathedral buttresses by Starfleet protocols which might have seemed appropriate once upon a time, but looked pretty pathetic after seven long years.

Long-term relationships were not for him, he had decided then and there. Caring too much for one person could not be that healthy. There would always be warm bodies welcoming him on shore leaves, and that's what he would seek from now on. It was for the best, he'd told himself. So he'd laid in bed, listening to the muted sounds coming from the other side of the bulkhead until the early hours of too many bleak mornings.

Given up on her, that's what he'd done all those years ago. Given up on the two of them.

~ Please state the name of the crew member ~ the computer repeated.

He startled, then glanced down the corridor a last time. "Seven of Nine," he said, satisfied no one was about.

The door opened onto the small room he had used early in his new duty as ship's counsellor. Although the crew had been sceptical at first, he had been able to manoeuvre between his main duties as First Officer and counsellor easily. The title had simply recognised his role over the years, listening to Voyager crew's woes, and before that with the Maquis.

It hadn't taken long before he had a full appointment book, Miral's birth the catalyst for many to reconsider their future. The young baby was a welcome addition to the crew, and nobody begrudged B'Elanna and Tom's joy. But her mere existence had also highlighted the hard fact that most of Voyager's original crew would be well past their prime before seeing their families back home.

While a few, like the Captain, had withdrawn from company, others had gone the opposite way. Couples formed and broke off a few days later under the weight of unreasonable expectations and short-lived commitment, sending many to the counsellor and the rest to the holodecks.

He had opened his doors and the crew filed in.

There were no imposing desk and leather couch, just two chairs on either side of a small table, a carafe of water, two glasses and an unlit candle. Seven was standing still, hands behind her back. His younger self was facing her, hair four shades darker than he'd seen in the mirror this morning.

He stepped over the holodeck threshold and settled in the corner nearest to the door, back to the wall, arms crossed over the chest. "Computer, run program."

The holo-Chakotay rose from his chair. 'Seven. I wasn't expecting to see you here.'

'I did make an appointment, Counsellor, but if there was an error I'll leave now.'

He had forgotten how literal Seven could be, and how invigorating it had been for a time to be with somebody whose emotions were not repressed and controlled but ready to blossom under gentle guidance.

'Please, stay.' His holo-self smiled and waved at the other chair. 'I meant that I wasn't sure why you needed to see a counsellor.'

The young woman settled on the edge of the seat. Her eyebrow lifted. 'I did learn much from your lessons on the complexities of human relationships. I am in search of advice as to what to do next.'

'I see,' the younger Chakotay said, uncertainty lacing his voice.

Seven continued unperturbed. 'With the Doctor's help, I have analysed the various behavioural elements that make up a relationship, and formed a theoretical understanding of the distinction between the evolutionary and biological dictates of reproduction and the pleasure two people take from sharing a close physical and emotional bond. With your help, I have deepened that insight into a more hands-on approach.'

He could not believe it. Was the holo-Chakotay blushing like a teenager? They'd never made it past a few dates. She was stunning, he had to admit – tall, full lips, blue doe eyes, a figure many women on Voyager had been ready to die for, or kill for. Or seek to despoil themselves, if what some had told him under the privacy of the counselling sessions was to be believed.

 _Get a grip_ , he told his two selves, realising Seven was still talking.

'It has been my observation that such relationships provide much needed stability despite the sometimes noisy and disruptive ways humanoids display their feelings to each other. It also a fact that they do benefit those crew members who are not close to the couple. For example, I have noted that the efficiency of the Engineering department has increased by 12.4 per cent since Lt Torres and Lt Paris have steadied their mating bond.'

Although he knew where this discourse was leading to, it was fascinating to listen to Seven's rational if long-winded way of getting to the point. Had she been as certain of her logic as he wanted to remember?

'However, more recent relationships have not lasted, with the potential to create disharmony among the crew,' she was saying.

'I see,' the holo-Chakotay repeated, stretching his words. 'Is that what you want to talk about? Our relationship?'

There had not been much in it. A picnic on the holodeck, coy smiles, lingering kisses. He had relaxed in Seven's company, been happy to be wanted, even if it had felt at times like he was the not-so-unwilling participant in a scientific experiment.

'No. While we were on the way of becoming lovers before I broke off our association, I believe that our closeness was more due to physical proximity on a small ship than deep feelings of concerns for each other. The decision to end our dates was the right one for me to make.'

Chakotay pushed himself from the wall, hand sliding in his hair. "Computer, stop program."

The arrogance of the woman. How could a former Borg drone with the emotional maturity of a five-year old and the tact of a targ still manage to prick his ego so effectively twenty years after the event? He should have gone boxing.

He checked the time. He had fifteen minutes to go before breakfast with Kathryn. She knew where he was, an unspoken understanding since she'd started on her annual pilgrimage to the cargo bay.

"Resume program, ten minutes forward," he sighed.

Seven was forging on. Chakotay could still remember how numb he'd felt listening to her as the conversation moved away from a discussion of their non-existent relationship into unfamiliar territory.

'I seek to form a bond with...,' she hesitated for a split second, 'another member of the crew.'

 _There_ , thought the Chakotay who had lived with that decision for twenty years.

'And you want my advice?' asked the younger, and for a little while yet, unsuspecting man.

'What I need is guidance about how to ensure that particular crew member will see the benefits of having a relationship with me. I am not sure if an appeal to the crew's well-being will be judged sufficient.'

Holo-Chakotay tagged at his ear lobe, not looking the least annoyed at Seven's change of partner.

 _Ignorance is bliss. Or is that innocence?_

 _As if I ever was innocent._

'I can see your dilemma. I'm sure the Doctor has told you that there are many grounds to build a relationship on, such as an already existing friendship or common interests.'

Something that had never really existed between the two of them. He doubted she would have been impressed by his visions quests, and he had little interest in star charts if they did not get the ship home faster.

The young woman nodded. 'That person and I share a deep interest in science, and she is my closest friend.'

Chakotay shot a glare at his holo-self whose eyes had widened. _Not Naomi, you slow-witted idiot._

'However, she is also a very private individual and disinclined to seek more than an uncomplicated friendship at best. Moving to something more … intimate might prove difficult, hence my coming here for your counsel.'

He felt sorry for the younger man as the realisation whom Seven was talking about finally hit home.

There had been a time before that day when it would still have been possible for Kathryn to be his even as the thought had sunk under the weight of too many rebuttals, slowly starving of oxygen.

And then there had been the time after, when he'd be certain he'd lost her forever.

Seven was smiling for spirits' sake. And yet, it was not the triumphant smirk he remembered seeing all those years back plastered on her face. As if, once again, she was not sure of herself and had come to him … for what? Reassurance she was doing the right thing? Straightforward advice when he only remembered duplicity and glee?

His younger self stood up, his jaw muscles contracting. 'Seven,' he warned, 'I will not discuss the Captain's—.'

'You never talk about her, Chakotay,' she said, with gentleness in her voice.

Chakotay frowned. In his recollection, Seven had burst into the small room faster than a Borg cube coming out of a transwarp conduit, with a grin on her lips and an unassailable argument. Tossed about by an avalanche of logical statements, he had capitulated, raw and bloodied, and watched from the sideline the result of his weakness.

'You are attracted to the Captain, you care deeply for her, that is clear even for me to see,' Seven went on, 'but you haven't been able to truly provide what she needs because of protocols which do not apply to me. I am a crew member by name only. I have no denomination, no official position, wear no uniform. I regenerate in the cargo bay and my quarters remain mostly empty. I am Borg, expendable in a way you are not.'

The ease with which Seven had glided over the main obstacle the captain had brought forward every time he'd talked to her spoke volumes for the young woman's confidence.

Those last words, though. He didn't remember taking any notice of them at the time of their meeting. Had Seven really thought her life on board Voyager of so little worth? Had she already forgotten the risks the Captain had taken to save her from the Borg, against his own advice?

He had almost come to arms against the Captain over Seven. Kathryn though had never wavered in the trust she put in her protégée, while theirs had taken too many hits, it seemed, to be salvageable by the time 2378 had dawned.

His younger self stumbled, oblivious to any undercurrent bar his own sinking feelings. 'The Captain is your mentor, Seven. She'll never agree.'

 _So much for not talking about the Captain._

'I am sure she will bring many obstacles to bear on developing a relationship with me. However, there are compelling reasons to attempt this undertaking. She is isolating herself once more, and she might well succeed next time she thinks her sacrifice will save the ship. While it is not entirely clear to me why she carries so many destroying thoughts, I believe that Voyager will not function without her.'

 _Their little mutiny about the Malon wormhole had saved the day but not won the self-imposed and personal war Kathryn carried within her. Seven had seen right through._

'I am the only one who can provide what she requires for now – a relationship with no strings attached.'

 _Oh Seven. Did you really think it would be so simple?_ For the first time in decades, his heart broke for the former Borg.

'I have a proposal for you,' she said.

Those words. He did remember them with clarity.

###

He left the holodeck, his mind in turmoil.

A small hand paused on his arm. "Chakotay, are you okay?"

"Kathryn, I didn't expect you here," he stammered. The door swished close behind him.

"Kol told me you just went past him this morning without saying a word. He was worried and commed me when I woke up."

"What was he doing up so early?" Chakotay asked, searching his memories and finding no trace he'd seen their son.

"His biology experiment. The one he needs to check every five hours."

"I… I forgot."

"I also found this on the table." Seven's implant glimmered in her hand.

Chakotay winced. "I took it from your side table. I should have put it back."

"What's wrong? You usually go for a bout of boxing but not today manifestly," she said, inching her head to look at the holodeck computer interface. "What made you change your mind?"

He leaned against the wall, covering the program details still visible on the screen. "This counsellor is in need of counselling," he said with a sigh.

She smiled and threaded her arm into his. "Over breakfast, my husband."

###

"You knew?"

Chakotay almost dropped the breakfast bowl on the table. With Liz at a sleep over with Harry's kids, and Kol busy on Deck 10, their quarters were eerily quiet, a rare event since the kids had been born.

"Seven told me she'd come and seen you, yes," Kathryn said, her fingers curled around her coffee cup.

The former Borg was nothing if not upfront to a fault. Of course, she would have told Kathryn. He slumped in his chair and toyed with the spoon. "And you went ahead with a relationship with her that easily?"

"Not that easily. I fought her at the beginning. Because of you, because of me, or more to the point because who I thought I should be. But she provided a workable solution. Her logic was flawless. I was letting the ship down and what she was proposing was a good compromise. If the only reasons I could not be with anybody were Starfleet protocols, she piled enough arguments at my feet to make me believe they didn't apply to her. And by the time she told me, it was a bit late to go back."

"So, you stayed with her." He put the spoon down and forced his hands to stay still on either side of the bowl.

"I did," she said in a quiet voice. "With her, I could be me. Selfish, egotistic, hurtful. It didn't matter. I discovered I didn't have to protect her feelings and I could let go of mine. She took it all in her stride, totally unfazed by whatever I threw at her. And that's why we could not be together, you and me. Not then. I would have buckled under your pity and resented you for it."

"I never felt pity for you." He leaned over the table and uncurled one of her hands, feeling the ring on her finger. It never had been pity, he'd felt for her. Concern, worry, anger, a dreaded hole in his chest. But never pity.

Her gaze fell on their entwined hands. "At the time, that's the only thing I saw in your eyes, in everybody's eyes. Tuvok, Tom, B'Elanna. Pity for the captain going bonkers, cracking up again. I couldn't take it any longer. I needed somebody who was strong enough to carry me through."

"I would have been strong enough."

"I wasn't."

"I loved you, Kathryn. You could have asked me anything, I would have given it to you."

"You would have given me your love to lean on, your soul to listen to me, your heart to swallow my woes," she said with a sad smile. "Exactly what you did and what I needed even as I fought you after Seven died. But at the time she came to me, what I needed was to be pushed around and not be treated like a crystal glass. Or watched over so I wouldn't leave on another doomsday mission."

"Damned if I had looked after you, and damned for not trying enough."

Chakotay let go of her hand and straightened his back. The breakfast bowl remained untouched on the table.

"That was pretty much it, with the benefit of hindsight of course."

She smirked. "And I was horny like hell. I would have thrown myself at a Klingon targ if I had had the chance. Holoprograms were not enough any longer."

Chakotay opened his mouth then thought the better of it.

"With Seven, it felt like a liberation," Kathryn continued. "I was tired of going round and round in circles in my head. She provided an emotional outlet I couldn't have with anybody else on this ship."

She laughed. "A human healed by a Borg. Sounds sad, but it did the job. She convinced me she did not seek anything in return. So, I willingly let her in because I was so very tired of being lonely, in a cage of my own making. It was kind of soothing to have somebody else take care of me."

"Something you wouldn't let me do."

"Something you were already doing, insulating me from the worst of the crew's problems, taking on my workload, becoming a counsellor to the crew, and so much more. I could not accept more from my First Officer. I wasn't worth that."

He brushed away those last words. "So anybody would have done, but me."

"Anybody who was not Starfleet," she said, frowning. "The way I saw my role as captain then, I couldn't be with you. I didn't dare break that protocol on top of all the others I had already trampled underfoot. It wasn't just because you were my First Officer. Every time I looked at you, standing by my side on the bridge, I saw the Starfleet officer plucked from the Maquis. I could not risk that. If we had reached the Alpha quadrant then, imagine what it would have looked like: 'Maquis leader saves his hide by sleeping with Starfleet captain.' It would have destroyed you."

She let out a deep breath. "Seven was different. Not quite a crew member, but not a one-night stand during shore leave either, soon forgotten until the next one," she said, pointedly.

She was right of course. And that hurt too.

"How could you accept?" he pleaded, his love for Kathryn still having the capacity to bruise and confuse him.

"You mean, after or before you started seeing her?" she asked with a slight smirk.

He stabbed the cool porridge.

"Sorry, that was unwarranted," he heard her say. "Seven also told me about the two of you. It hurt that you didn't seek to tell me, but I could hardly blame you. I had pushed you away, never let you close. At least, you'd left for somebody else, not just…"

She looked at the viewport, whispering. "Not just because of me. If it makes sense."

He pushed his chair back. "And when you thought I was no longer interested in either you or her, you took the plunge."

Kathryn looked at him with raised eyebrows. "In a manner of speaking. As far as I was concerned, you were ready to move on, from me and from her. I should have talked to you, but facing you was more than I could bear to do at the time."

"I can just hear how that conversation would have gone," he spat out.

His hands traced the outline of a would-be banner. 'Oh, hello Chakotay. I know Seven has dumped you, but I was wondering if it's okay for her to go to bed with me instead. Great for the crew morale, don't you think.'

Her blue eyes hardened. "Seven did say she'd spoken to you, and that you'd agreed."

"For spirit's sake, Kathryn. Listen to yourself. You make it sound like Seven and I discussed the price of a warp core manifold during a trade mission. Besides, I didn't agree to anything, the counsellor did," he corrected.

She frowned. "I don't see…"

"You were spending time with holograms, for spirits' sake. What do you think I would have said to you? That if I couldn't have you then nobody else should? I was not trying to keep your virginity intact, you know."

The bowl of porridge jumped when he slammed his fist on the table.

Kathryn pursued her lips. She stood and went to the viewport, looking at the stars streaming past.

Chakotay kneaded his forehead. "Even after the accident, when I was counselling you, you never really talked about your feelings for her," he said to her back.

She whirled around. "Is this really what this is about, Chakotay? Is this why for fifteen years you've gone boxing, then got patched up in sickbay before sitting by my side on the bridge the morning after? Because I never talked about Seven?"

"In part," he said, guarded.

"The part in you that says, 'I am jealous'?"

His shoulders sagged. Spirits, didn't that sound pathetic. A real counsellor would have a field day with his stupid hang-up. There he was, berating his wife of fifteen years and the mother of his two children.

He walked to her, put his arms around her shoulders, feeling her tense. "I am sorry, Kathryn."

He tucked a stray grey hair back behind her ear. "I behaved like an idiot. Yes, I was jealous, tired of waiting and still hoping you would come to me. I thought I had lost you for good."

A whirlwind of dark hair poked at the door of the room. "Mum, I'm back. Experiment's still going well."

The boy froze. Brown eyes darted from one adult to the other. "I think I'll go and have breakfast in the mess hall, and leave you two to it." Kol disappeared.

Chakotay smiled despite himself. "That young man's survival instincts are off the chart."

"Be careful, Mister," Kathryn said, giving him a slight smack on the arm.

He kissed his wife lightly, then spun her around until her back was leaning against him, his head touching hers.

"The boxing was also about the part in me who shun her and you, for all that time."

He felt a hitch in her breathing. "There was that too. 'Yes Captain'. 'No Captain'. I didn't get much more out of you for five years, Chakotay. Even Seven noticed it. She said you were polite to her when you were working together, but for me, it was like I was standing near an iceberg."

"I thought I was being the detached and efficient First Officer you wanted." He moved his head sideways and looked at her. Her eyes were misted over. "You never mentioned that before."

"Must be the day for confessions," she said, patting his hands closed over her stomach. "I understood we could not have our evening meetings in my quarters anymore. But when some of the crew followed suit and started to shun Seven more than the usual, that's when it hurt. And then, there was Tom."

"What about Tom? What did he do?" If there was one man who understood the Starfleet captain, it was Tom, Chakotay had long realised, and sometimes resented.

"Nothing I could ever confront him about. But there was less banter on the bridge. The jokes became more pointed. He never came to see me with his coffee the whole time Seven stayed in my quarters. It was like we were in quarantine. Poor Harry tried to compensate, but he was never very good at knowing what to do around me."

"I had no idea. I suppose I didn't want to know."

She squeezed his hands hard. "I felt like the entire ship was judging Seven. When I found her alcove thrown about in the cargo bay, it was too much. That's why I never completely opened up to you. I am sorry."

"I should have been more aware. I was supposed to be the ship counsellor."

"It was not that my heart wasn't big enough for the two of you," she said. "Nobody asks if I love Kol more than you, or Liz. There is no limit to how much love can hold. I couldn't be with you, but that did not mean I stopped loving you."

Chakotay stepped back.

"What?" Kathryn asked, turning to face him.

He put his hand through his short cropped hair. "Seven knew. She knew you still loved me. Of course, I did too, even if it took me years to realise that, but she knew from the beginning."

He sat down on the couch, looked up at his wife. "When Seven came and saw me, she said she had a proposal for me."

He was pretty sure she'd never told Kathryn about that part of their conversation.

Kathryn lifted an eyebrow in a fair imitation of her former lover. She crossed her arms.

"If something was to happen to her, I would take over from her," Chakotay went on.

Kathryn opened her arms and her eyes widened. "What? She thought I would let you into my bed as soon as it was cold? Like that?" She snapped her fingers.

Chakotay flinched. "That's what I said, that I would never… Anyway, she argued it was a logical extension of what she was attempting to do. That it was too dangerous to leave you alone and isolated, especially as the years passed and that it would be all for the benefit of the ship."

"How did she dare?" Kathryn's eyes had turned hard.

"I refused to listen to her and basically threw her out of the room. She never talked about it after that."

"She should never have burdened you with such an obligation in the first place. That arrogant … Borg," Kathryn uttered. "She set you up."

"No, she didn't," he said with a small chuckle.

Kathryn remained standing, face tight.

"Let's face it, I was destined to fail long before I gave you up all those years ago. If we had come together then, we would have great sex, but we would have soon fallen into a whirlpool of resentment, you are quite right about that. You were hurting yourself at every opportunity, and I would have tried to protect you at all costs. Ultimately, with no way out, we would have imploded. And what would have become of Voyager then?"

"She was setting the two of us up for a future relationship. How can you think it was right?" Kathryn said, her tone incredulous. Her hands made it to her hips.

"I can't really say that's exactly what she had in mind, but it's entirely possible. The Borg do think long term and their collective is all that counts. Seven went into a relationship with you with her eyes wide open. She knew exactly what she was doing, unblinkered by jealous thoughts like mine, or your self-destroying sense of guilt, as she called it, which pushed everybody away."

Chakotay stood, and cupped Kathryn's face in his hands. "And then, she made a mistake," he added with a small smile. "An oversight her Borg nature could not anticipate. She knew the theory, but you caught her unware."

Kathryn's face softened. "She fell in love with me."

"You are a rare woman, Kathryn Janeway. While most of us, mere mortals, can only love one person at a time, you loved and were loved dearly by two, one of whom bitterly regrets the pain he put you through."

Kathryn's eyes glistened in the dim light coming from the viewport. "I never deserved —."

"There is a legend among my people." He leaned gently and pressed his lips against hers, tasting her.

He felt the corner of her mouth lift. "The one about a beautiful and wise warrior?" she whispered when he let her breathe.

"Don't interrupt, woman." His mouth nibbled at her ear, feeling her shudder. "A saying, rather than a legend, which states that those beloved by the gods are given great trials. It was never said that one has to endure those trials alone."

"Kol is due back any minute," she murmured, tilting her neck.

He gave her a last peck then pulled back and took her arm, surprising her. "And my porridge is cold. Let's go the mess hall and talk to Harry over breakfast. He's usually there at this time of the day."

"What about?" she said, walking with him towards the door to the corridor.

"Many in the crew loved Seven in their own ways. They could never mourn her because of me, and you. Now it's time for all of us to celebrate her."

Kathryn gave him a warm smile. "I would love that very much, counsellor."

* * *

 _My many thanks to Voyagerfictionfan for once again betaeing this chapter._

 _End note -_ _If anybody has a problem with Janeway having a relationship with Seven, I'll paraphrase Gene_ _Roddenberry:_ _'[..] by the 24th century, no one will care.' Hopefully it will happen a little bit earlier Down Under._


End file.
